Burning Desire
by whatif005
Summary: Evelyn is sent to King's Landing as a spy on the Lannisters. My first Game of Thrones fanfic and I've also only seen two seasons so please forgive me if I use any wrong terms or names.
1. Chapter 1

Evelyn Vitalis neatly folded the last of the sheets she had washed and dried in the lower part of the castle with the rest of the maids. She felt the soft, silkiness of the clean material under her fingers and felt an ache in her heart. She wished she was back in the land of her father, sleeping on royal sheets of her own instead of working as a spy in King's Landing. Her father, King Bartram of Summerland, had died last year and her brother, Maxwell, had inherited the throne though. What everyone would denounce as "sibling rivalry" was undoubtedly a form of pure hatred between her and her old brother. He was conceited, hot-headed, and all around disagreeable. They were complete opposites and their fighting was unending, even as adults. As adults, however, he would beat her harder. She had scars left to prove that. When he became King and she turned 20, he had her sent to spy on the House of Lannister. Though unacquainted almost entirely with the seven kingdoms of Westeros, Summerland had fertile lands and a lot of gold. It was always a fear that they would be overtaken by the West and so, Maxwell had sent her here. Joffrey Lannister was oblivious of the proper way to run a kingdom and with the war he had already started, it was questionable what move he would make next. She did miss home, she thought as she lifted the sheets and began her way up the stone steps, but she did not miss the King nor his rule. She would continue happily serving her father's land, for the reason alone that it was his once.

She hummed to herself as she continued to the bedrooms to make beds for the royalty. She turned a corner with impeccable timing as a man, perhaps one of the biggest she had ever seen, angrily stormed out of a doorway to her right. His shoulder collided with her and threw her to the ground. He glanced back quickly as he continued down the hall but then stopped and turned back completely. As he did so, she knew him right away. His face was unlike any she had ever seen, half of it scarred by fire. He was The Hound. She gathered herself as he stepped towards her.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I must watch where I'm going. I was a fool to -"

She stopped her nervous mumbling as he offered her his hand. She stared for a second, scared to take it. She had heard horror stories about The Hound. He was a ruthless killer with a lust for blood and the anger of a caged dragon. She took it anyways, scared to offend him more than she probably already had. The sheets she still held in her arms, thankfully. She wouldn't have to rewash them that night. He helped her to her feet without a word and then went on his way. She stood in the now empty hall, noticing her hands were trembling, and couldn't remember that last time she had felt so frightened.


	2. Chapter 2

"Girl, what is your name?" King Joffrey shouted from his seat upon the iron throne.

Evelyn, whose hands had been tied together and was placed on her knees, answered him.

"Lilith Bronstrom, your grace," she said, feeling a few burning tears fall from her eyes as she did so.

"Tell me, is it proper form for a maid to neglect her duties?"

"No, your grace," she replied.

"Will it happen again?" he asked her.

"No, your grace. I swear it. I am so sorry-"

"I don't want to hear your apologies, maid," he interrupted. "They are meaningless to me. I'm feeling quite generous today however, and my mother has informed me that we are quite short of maids as of late. You will be punished for your mistake so you do not make it again." He nodded to one of his men who walked over to her and lifted her up by the arm.

"Thank you, your grace," she said, more tears falling than before. The man lead her out of the room and out into one of the small courtyards. Her punishment was undeserved. Another maid, Leah, had forgotten to dust a table in the east hall. Evelyn took the blame, not wanting to see the poor, young girl hurt for something so insignificant. She could have been killed if Joffrey hadn't been feeling so "generous," but she tried to push that thought away as the man lead her into the open air. Her hands were still tied and he turned her to face him. She had never met him before but his expression was emotionless. He lifted his right arm and hit her across the face with a force she had never felt through her years of fighting with her brother. It knocked her to the dirt and her whole face felt numb. He picked her back up and struck her again with his left arm this time. She stumbled downwards but kept herself standing. She felt the hot blood pouring from her nose but she kept her sobs silent. The man raised his arm again but someone grabbed it. Through the tears she could see it was The Hound.

"That'll be enough punishment for the crime," The Hound said to the man who looked at him angrily and pulled his arm away. The man approached her and wiped the blood from his hands onto her dress before going back inside. After he was gone, The Hound walked over to her. She had bit her tongue during the second swing and could taste the blood that filled her mouth.

"Shit," he said, looking at the stream of blood that was flowing from her nose. He pulled out a white cloth and placed it under her nose with one hand and untied her wrists with the other. She shakily lifted her arms to her face and held the cloth there so he could remove his hand. She swallowed the blood in her mouth so she could speak.

"Thank you, sir," her voice trembled.

"Do not call me 'sir' and remove the cloth for a moment," he said.

She did as he said and he lifted his hand to her face. She closed her eyes, thinking he was going to strike her.

"Girl, I'm not going to hurt you," he said. He lightly touched the underside of her jaw and turned her head to the left and then to the right.

"Nothing is broken. You will be bruised but you have nothing to worry about," he told her, placing his hands back at his sides.

She pressed the bloody cloth back to her nose.

"Why are you being kind to me?" she asked him, suddenly not afraid.

"There is a difference between being kind and being decent. Don't flatter yourself, girl."

He walked her back into the castle and down to the maid's chambers. They did not speak as they went and when they reached the chambers she turned to thank him again. Before she could even open her mouth, he stopped her.

"Do not thank me for helping to wipe the blood from your face. Thank whatever worthless gods you pray to for our King's decision not to have you hanged in the courtyard today and hope that I don't decide to tell him that there's a Summerland spy washing his clothes and sheets," he said, his voice low and serious. "That punishment, I wouldn't even want to imagine."

He stomach turned. He knew what she was, but how had he found out? Her backstory had been smartly devised and it was impenetrable. With those words, he left her standing in fear and confusion. She entered the room where Leah jumped from her spot on one of the rickety beds and embraced her. She had been sewing up holes in another maid's dress.

"Lily, you shouldn't have done that. I should've been hit, it was my fault."

Leah pulled away and cupped Evelyn's face causing her to cringe from the pain.

"Look what they've done to you," she spoke, beginning to cry from guilt.

"I'm fine, it could have been worse. At least I still have my head. I just want to change and wash the blood off of my face and dress," she replied.

Leah removed her hands from Evelyn's face.

"I will handle washing your dress, Lily. Ask of me anything and I shall do it for you. I owe you for doing this for me," Leah told her.

Leah walked back over to her spot on the bed and continued with the thread and needle. Evelyn headed over to her cot as one of the other maids shouted across the room,

"Don't worry, Lily. You will not scar from that. You won't be looking as frightening as The Hound."

Quiet laughter filled the room but she did not join. She was not frightened by The Hound's face, only his soul. She was frightened that he would tell Joffrey about her true identity and the torture of a slow death that might come after that. She thought for a moment that he might use this against her, threaten to speak of the truth if she didn't obey his every command. Bedded every night against her will, was that not a fate worse than death? She remembered what he had said though. 'I'm not going to hurt you,' he had spoken to her. She knew men were often liars, but hoped with all of her soul that he was different. Her dreams that evening would be nightmares, filled with images of torture and blood. In the back of those images, stood a giant black dog.


	3. Chapter 3

Six days had passed since her punishment and the bruises on the sides of her face still showed lightly. Every day, she assumed she would be arrested for treason and sentenced to death. Every day, she had been wrong in her assumptions. She had seen no sign of The Hound, though she usually didn't see many people other than the maids. She had cleaned the blood from the cloth he had given her and carried it in the pocket of her dress if she would see him. This afternoon, it was her turn to purchase supplies from the thread makers in the city. She enjoyed this duty because it gave her the opportunity to be away from the cold, dark parts of the castle. The rest of King's Landing was beautiful and it was a shame to be chained to the worst part of it. Her long brown hair moved with the warm, summer breeze as she went on her way. The people of the town whispered of their opposition to King Joffrey. Their openness in public showed the distaste was great enough beyond their own lives. All of them knew words of treason were met with a sword. The man who owned the shop she first stopped at warned her of war. He recommended she buy more thread because Stanis Baratheon would burn the rest of it when he took the city, but when she told him she was a maid of the Lannister's and only given so much silver for the day, he didn't speak another word. He was either scared she would tell of his words, or he disliked her for her 'loyalty' to the crown. The rest of her stops were quite similar and she grew surprised there hadn't been another riot since the one last month. The sky began to darken and she realized she was on the far side of the city. No girl, no matter her age, should wander alone once the sun sets. She made her way back towards the castle and took a shortcut through the gardens. They were gorgeous this time of the year, with flowers of every color and butterflies the size of plates. As she continued, she came across the sheds of the gardeners. In between the sheds was a stone table and at that table, the silhouette of someone she knew. He didn't look her way as she went towards him, nor did he glance up when she stopped in front of him. The large cup in his hand was almost empty and she could smell the wine from where she stood. Not knowing how to address him since he had ordered she not call him 'sir', she simply removed the cloth from her pocket and placed it on the table next to him. As she pulled her hand back, The Hound reached out and grabbed her wrist. He met her eyes.

"It's rude, let alone dangerous, to interrupt a man who has had too much wine, girl," he spoke.

"I meant no interruption, only to return to you what is yours," she said, quietly. He was still holding on to her wrist, not with force, but she still didn't try to pull away.

"Sit, girl," he ordered, letting go.

She did as he said and sat across from him. He took the cloth and put it away.

"What's your name?" he asked. "Your real name, the one your mother gave you."

She hesitated to answer him as he took another gulp of wine but the look of anger he then gave her forced her to speak.

"Evelyn Vitalis," she spoke, loud enough so that only he could hear.

"Ah, you're King Bartram's daughter I take it. What's he care about the Lannister's for?" he asked, demandingly.

"My father is dead. My brother, Maxwell, questions King Joffrey's actions and fears for Summerland," she explained.

He laughed loudly, causing her to jump.

"The King cannot even run a city, girl. I do not think your people have anything to fret," he said, still laughing drunkenly.

"I do not believe they do, but I am not here by choice. If I was, I wouldn't choose to be a lowly maid," she told him bitterly. "How did you know where I was from?"

"Lucky guess," he said.

"You are loyal to the King, why do you keep my treason secret?" she asked him, whispering.

He laughed again.

"Fuck the king," he laughed quite loudly.

"Are you a fool? They will take your head for words like that," she told him, knowing he already understood since he had taken several of those heads himself.

"I'd like to see them try," he said, getting up from the table.

She stood up as well. He took a few steps and faltered from the wine, almost dropping to the ground. She ran to his side, her bag of supplies still hanging from her shoulder.

"I've got a proposal," she said. "I make sure you don't break your neck stumbling back to the castle and you make sure no thieves or fools touch me."

"A drunken guard dog for the lady of Summerland," he laughed.

She shushed him and lifted his arm, placing it around her neck to keep him from falling, though she was sure if he was to fall it would now bring the both of them to the ground. As they walked, she took the opportunity to look at his face closely. The scarring looked painful, though it was obvious it had been created over a decade ago. She felt sorrow in her heart when she thought back to how the other maid's had been frightened of his face. She was sure he received looks of fear anywhere he went, from children and women. She was sure, as well, that men were cruel to him, though probably not within his reach as he could surely silence them with one move. She thought also about what he had said about the King. Did that mean that he, too, was in opposition to Joffrey?

They made their way past the guards and into the castle, finally reaching the door to his room. The pressure of his arm alone was hurting her neck and she was thankful that he hadn't been putting too much weight on her and could, for the most part, stand on his own feet. She walked him over to a chair in the corner and he sat down in it. She turned to walk out of the room to leave him be.

"Other girls," he slurred. "They will not look at me. Not on the streets, and not even when I have paid them to be in my bed."

She turned back around and met his eyes.

"What allows you to look at me like I am normal?"

Her heart filled with sadness at his words. She couldn't imagine the torture he had seen to have to ask such a question.

"Perhaps I am not like other girls. I see only a man," she said truthfully.

He laughed.

"A man," he scoffed. "More like a dog. I am the Hound, Evelyn."

She was surprised he used her name this time and didn't denounce her to 'girl'.

"Dogs are loyal, fierce, and brave. All of those things I believe you are, but I do not believe you are a dog."

He didn't say anything, he just stared at her. She took a few steps forward and stood in front of him.

"What's the name _your _mother gave you?" she asked him.

"Sandor," he told her.

"I'd prefer to call you that, if that's acceptable," she said to him, not wanting to even have to think about him as the Hound any longer.

"Call me whatever you want," he began, standing up. "It doesn't change the-"

She pressed her lips against his and kissed him. There was a second of confusion before he kissed her back. She could taste the alcohol on his breath. He placed his hands gently on the sides of her face. The kiss became more passionate. He pulled her closer by her waist and she placed her arms around his neck. They parted for a moment to gasp for air and she looked him in the eyes as she put her hand to the scarred side of his face. He looked at her sadly, expecting her to turn away. When she didn't, he pulled her closer and kissed her again. She felt him against her and knew where this was heading. She would have preferred he wasn't drunk but passion drove that from her head as they moved backwards. They landed on the bed, her on top of him as they began to undress each other. He groaned into her mouth and she realized she wanted him more than anyone before. She had only fucked once, when she was a hormonal teenager, in the woods. She had felt nothing compared to this. She couldn't understand why but something pulled her to him. They both moaned quietly as he entered her and she began to slowly rock her hips back and forth. He was big but he didn't hurt her. From the corner of her eye she saw that the door was still open, but she could not have cared any less at that point. His hands around her breasts made her shudder with pleasure. He lifted her gently off of him and down onto her back. He kissed her again before thrusting himself into her. Her moans grew louder as he went faster and she didn't know how much longer she could hold herself together. She moaned his name and she felt him slow down as he neared his end. They reached it together as he released inside of her and she kissed him softly. They lay there for a moment in silence, after her pulled out of her and rested his head on her chest. She ran a hand through his hair.

"Only men fuck that good," she said with a smile. He placed himself next to her, pulling her close. She felt safe with his arm wrapped around her. She heard him fast asleep after a while and looked at him one more time before closing her eyes.


End file.
